


Troubleseeker

by Czaritsa (RomaStache)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (Almost), Babybones (Undertale), Fluff and Humor, Friendship, I don't really know what to tag for this so..., Mace Windu - Freeform, Padawans, Star Wars AU, Underfell Papyrus, Underswap Papyrus, if there's something i need to tag please let me know! C:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23367448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomaStache/pseuds/Czaritsa
Summary: Rus doesn't look for trouble, thank you very much, it just happens to always find him when he's looking for Edge! Today, he's looking for Edge in one of the Jedi Temple's quietest, least visited kitchen. Surely trouble won't find him there!Inspired by the talented KeelyWolfe's Star Wars AU, Severed Bonds! A look back to a sweeter, simpler time when Edge and Rus were just eager younglings/padawans getting into all sorts of trouble.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 10





	Troubleseeker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keelywolfe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Severed Bonds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18819550) by [keelywolfe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe). 



> Inspired by KeelyWolfe's amazing Star Wars AU! I highly recommend it, but it's pretty dark so please read all of the tags for that one very carefully.
> 
> This one is not dark at all, lol! Just Rus and Edge as padawans being friends and having fun. I don't think there's anything I need to tag/warn for, but if there is, please let me know!

As far as plans and ideas go, this one is far from his best. Hiding up in a cupboard for half an hour, peeking out from the small crack in the door? That’s pretty lame and boring. But Edge is notoriously difficult to startle, so it takes a little extra patience and creativity-  
  
  
Rus barely manages to stifle a giggle, watching his friend enter the kitchen with a focused, serious expression. _ Perfect.  _ Edge is distracted, scanning the opposite side of the kitchen for something.  
  
  
“HEYYY!” Rus yells loudly the minute Edge looks at his cupboard, throwing the door open as loudly as he can.  
  
  
**_“☞︎◆︎♍︎🙵-!”_ ** Edge is so startled he slips into their native language, eyelights wide as he presses back against the closest wall. The sound of his thundering soul is unnaturally loud in the quiet kitchen as they stare at each other, and Rus can’t help a triumphant crow of laughter.  
  
  
Edge is less amused. There’s a warning prickle through the Force as his eyelights go impossibly small, expression pulled into an angry scowl. Rus has never been very good at self-preservation though, so he’s filled with a strange giddiness instead. He wonders if this is  _ finally  _ a piece of the real Edge shining through, the  _ real  _ soul without the veil of the Force.  
  
  
But the moment passes like it always does, with Edge forcing his true self deep, deep down. He fills himself with foreign serenity and patience, becoming the Force in an Edge-shaped vessel instead. That look of indifferent calm somehow cuts deeper than any angry outburst ever could.  
  
  
“Papyrus.” Edge says calmly and simply, without the slightest trace of indignation or annoyance in his voice as he crosses his arms. At least he didn’t use his nickname. Edge only ever calls him by his full name when he’s upset. It’s strangely reassuring to know he’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be, “Don’t you have anything better to do?”  
  
  
“Yeah,” Rus sighs as he pushes himself upright, letting his legs dangle down from the cupboard. He has to hunch himself over to fit this way, but he’s tired of lying on… whatever hard synthetic material this is, “Help me down without the force?”  
  
  
That’s enough to bring back a scowl, at least, as Edge gives him a very pointed stink eye. Even if he wanted to, which he most definitely doesn’t, there’s no way his friend can reach that high. Rus is still a full head taller, riding an early growth spurt that’s just beginning.   
  
  
As hard as he tries to ignore it, to never rise to the bait, Edge really  _ hates  _ being shorter. It’s a little cruel, maybe, to keep teasing his friend about something he’s obviously sensitive about, but... But Jedi have to be above temptation of all kinds, and can’t let idle words goad them to foolish actions, blah blah blah.   
  
  
Just like everything else that makes life fun and interesting, it’s going to become  _ forbidden. _ Edge has to pretend it doesn’t bother him, like Rus has to pretend it’s not fun to tease him, and they’ll have to hide it deep, deep down. Always in and under and with and through and sideways and intersecting and crossing and upside down with the Force. It’s just another secret they have to keep, pretending it doesn’t exist because it  _ can’t  _ exist. And if they stop pretending for even a little bit, they’ll be scolded and forced to meditate for  _ hours. _ So Rus needs to indulge now, while he still can, even if it’s a little mean, because-  
  
  
“How long are you going to stay there,  _ wasting  _ time?” Edge sneers, a bite to his words as he takes Rus’ silence as bored indifference. It’s not true, but even an annoyed Edge is more fun than a serene Edge. He doesn’t bother correcting him, watching as his fellow trainee turns on his heel and stalks over to the other end of the kitchen. With a calculated look over his shoulder, Edge slides the door open with the force and disappears inside. He makes sure to leave it open, probably because he doesn’t trust Rus not to lock him in there and he wants to keep lecturing him. But at least Edge isn’t ignoring him. Rus  **_hates_ ** being ignored the most.  
  
  
“You could have been something productive instead,” Edge continues primly, voice even and pronunciation precise, shuffling something around, “Like meditating, or practicing your katas, or visiting the library for information on  _ the Gathering _ which is in _ two days! _ Or literally  **_anything_ ** else! But no, you’d rather crouch in a cabinet and act like a- a- a Kowakian monkey-lizard!”  
  
  
That comparison stings a little, because Rus isn’t mean-spirited and cruel. This was just a friendly prank between friends, and Edge is completely overreacting. It’s… It’s just because his  _ friend  _ is stressed about the Gathering coming up. Edge is sharp and unkind when he’s stressed. It’s not… not because he actually  **_dislikes_ ** Rus... and that maybe they  **_aren’t_ ** even actually friends...  
  
  
He pushes that thought away immediately, barely catching the last bit of Edge’s lecture,  “You’re lucky it was  _ me,  _ and not a Knight or a Master! Then you  _ really  _ would have been in trouble!”  
  
  
“I wasn’t here for that long. Only half an hour,” Rus answers honestly, drumming his feet against the wall with a shrug his friend can’t see, “And I wasn’t trying to scare anyone  _ but  _ you, so it would have been fine-“  
  
  
“Why  _ me?!”  _ Edge stamps his foot in frustration loudly enough Rus can hear it from the kitchen, another lapse in his self-control. But when he pokes his head out of the storeroom, his expression is one of forced calm. He levels Rus with a cool stare, “Why is it always  **_me?”  
  
  
_ ** A simple question with a hundred different answers that are all facets of a truth he himself doesn’t quite know either. Rus shrugs, offering up the first one that comes to mind, “Because you’re my friend and I like you. It’s fun when we’re together.”  
  
  
Edge’s expression softens, and Rus feels his own soul unclench in response. That’s not a look of hatred or indifference or scorn. And the exasperated fondness in his tone makes it exceedingly clear Edge likes him, too, even if he’s gone back to scowling. If his  **friend** isn’t careful, his face is going to get stuck that way, “Well! You have a funny way of showing it!”  
  
  
Rus just smiles in response, pleased with that silent admission of friendship. The moment is nice, but his restless eyelights quickly focus on the cloth sack Edge has slung over his shoulder.   
  
  
“What are you doing?” Rus asks quickly, banging his head on the roof of the cabinet as he tries to sit up. It hurts, and he rubs at the tender area gently, but he’s too curious to care. He leans left and then right, trying to get a better look, “What’s in the bag?”  
  
  
“Unlike you, I’m  _ supposed  _ to be here,” Edge tells him proudly, puffing out his chest as he pats the bag smugly, “I’m here on behalf of Creche Master Toriel! It’s Jogan fruit for-“  
  
  
“Oh.” Rus goes back to his crooked slouch, much less interested now. “Just babysitting.”  
  
  
“It’s  **_not_ ** ‘just babysitting!” Edge tells him imperiously, taking a breath to add more sedately, “It’s  _ important _ . And it’s our responsibility to teach and care for Bantha Clan, like we were taught and cared for when we were at their level.”  
  
  
“Ughhh.” Rus doesn’t have the space to throw his head back here, so he settles for sticking his tongue out instead, “You sound  _ just  _ like Toriel!”  
  
  
“That’s not a bad thing,” Edge answers with a sigh, shifting the bag so it’s behind him again, “We  _ are  _ supposed to be learning from more experienced Jedi, after all.”  
  
  
Suddenly, there’s a minute flicker of intent in the force.  
  
  
“You’ll get your chance soon enough,” Rus looks toward the door, taking a moment to place the familiar Force signature, “Mace is headed this way.”  
  
  
“Mace?” Edge repeats, mystified, following his line of sight with furrowed brow bones, “Who are you talking about?”  
  
  
As hard as he trains and as much as he meditates, Edge has always struggled with the Force. Yoda says it’s his inability to give up control easily, a fear of being powerless again. ( _ Again? _ What does that mean?) Plo Koon says it’s because he does not know how to conform and adapt to the Force yet, so he fruitlessly tries to bend it to his will instead.   
  
  
They’re both probably right, Rus thinks distantly as he watches Edge close his eyes and reach out to the Force himself. It always hurts a little that Edge can never just take his word for anything. He  _ always  _ has to check everything for himself, and the worst part is Rus can’t really blame him. He gets his friend into  _ so  _ much trouble, it’s only natural Edge is reluctant to trust him just like that.   
  
  
“Rus!” Edge’s voice cuts through his bitter sulking, quickly bringing him back to the present. His friend is looking at the door with wide eyelights, gesturing at the countertop frantically, “It’s  _ Master Windu!  _ You can’t call  _ Master Windu  _ Mace!! And _ Master Windu  _ is  **coming,** now!”  
  
  
“I just told you that. So what?” He asks nonchalantly, laughing at the incredulous-irritated look sent his way. Edge can be so wonderfully expressive- it’s a shame he’s so serious all the time.   
  
  
“Rus! Get down now!” Edge hisses, popping himself on his tiptoes to grab at Rus’ robes as they dangle down. Logically, he must know he won’t be able to get Rus down like this. His friend is too short to get a good grip on his robes or ankle, but he’s too concerned to act mature and reasonable and responsible. Despite all the posturing and false-serenity, Edge desperately wants to avoid getting into trouble. It’s  _ delightful  _ to see him act his age, for once. “Come **_on!_ ** Master Windu isn’t Master Toriel- you won’t be able to talk yourself out of this one! And then  _ I’m  _ going to get in trouble for not stopping you!”  
  
  
They aren’t even  _ doing  _ anything that’ll get them in trouble, probably, but they’ve got an unfair reputation as troublemakers. Edge is probably right...  
  
  
But Mace isn’t here  _ yet _ . Rus doesn’t even need to focus on the Force to feel Mace’s presence at the end of the corridor. The Jedi Master just rounded the corner, which gives them a little more time to play before he gets close enough to bust them for loitering or whatever.  
  
  
“Help me down, then,” Rus kicks his legs and tries to look helpless, “It’s too high for me to climb down by myself.”  
  
  
“You got  _ up  _ there by yourself!” Edge doesn’t quite yell, but it’s close enough his eyes flit to the doorway nervously, “Just use the Force to cushion your fall! We learned how to do that in our  **_first lesson!”_ ** There’s a bit of an arrogant sneer at the end of that last remark, but Rus likes it anyway. Anytime he can get Edge to show his true colors is a win, even if it’s at his own expense.   
  
  
“I want  _ you  _ to help me down,” Rus insists stubbornly, inching forward until he’s sitting on the very edge of the cabinet, “Catch me!”  
  
  
“What?! No! Don’t!” Edge’s protests come too late. Leaning back on his hands, Rus pushes himself forward. It’s not  _ that  _ high up- the worst he’d get is a bruise, probably, if Edge just stepped back and let him fall. But his friend tries to catch him anyway.   
  
  
He  _ should  _ use the Force to cushion his fall, to help Edge bear his weight, but he doesn’t. Edge’s knees buckle at the force of the collision immediately, and they both tumble backwards into the cabinets behind them. There’s a wet squelch as whatever fruit was in Edge’s bag is crushed under their weight and the entire kitchen seems to shake. Pots rattle against the wall and something falls off of the counter, landing with a loud thud.  
  
  
Before either of them can so much as stand up, Mace is stepping into the kitchen. His expression is stern as he surveys the damage, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at them. He’s not  _ terrifying _ , but Rus understands the rumors a little better now. He can absolutely believe that an entire company in the Trade Federation’s army surrendered as soon as the Jedi Master raised an eyebrow.   
  
  
“We were just-“ Edge starts to answer nervously, unprompted, as he scrambles to his feet. He fusses at his robes, straightening them nervously, “I was just- It was- pie mission-“  
  
  
He hauls Rus to his feet, too, straightening his friend’s robes as he tries to avoid looking Mace in the eye, “Master Windu, Master Toriel was-“  
  
  
“Settle your mind first, young one,” Mace's voice is sharp and commanding, and Rus flinches, too, despite himself, “And  _ then  _ you can explain why the kitchen looks like a Federation Squad marched through it.”  
  
  
There’s like, three pots on the floor, a ripped flour bag that’s mostly in the frying pan, and some fruit juice and pulp smeared onto the floor. Hardly a disaster- but Rus closes his mouth before he can voice that thought, trying to look innocent when he feels Mace’s eyes settle on him.  
  
  
“Yes, Master Windu,” Edge answers miserably, looking down at the ground as he tries to get his thoughts in order. He has always looked up to Mace, so his obvious embarrassment and discomfort send a pang of sympathy through Rus’ soul, “I was careless-“  
  
  
“It was my fault, Master Windu,” Rus sighs, stepping forward to stand next to his friend. As much as he hates the lectures and punishments, seeing Edge squirm and so deeply unhappy is somehow even worse, “Creche Master Toriel sent us here to bring her some fruit from the store room.”  
  
  
He catches Edge by the sleeve to turn him around, gesturing to the wet, mushy bag still pressed up against his friend’s back, “I was messing around, and we both fell down, and the fruit got kinda squished.”   
  
  
“I see,” Mace answers cooly, folding his arms so they are mostly hidden in his robes, “Let us hope you two will handle your preparation for the Gathering with more care and focus than you have shown with this task.”  
  
  
Edge breaks loose a moment later, cheeks dusted pink in mortification as he gives a terse nod. That reaction has Rus suppressing a giggle, but it’s not enough to push down that flash of resentment and annoyance.   
  
  
“Of  _ course  _ we will, Mace- Master Mace Windu,” Rus corrects himself quickly, flashing Mace the most winsome smile he can muster, “But I don’t think that’s a fair assessment! Sure, our methods may be a little messier than we expected, but we’re actually doing Bantha Clan a favor!”  
  
  
“Are you now?” Mace asks incredulously, putting his hands on his hips as he inspects the kitchen thoroughly. Rus can feel Edge glaring daggers at the back of his head, but this is actually working really well. Mace is  _ intrigued  _ by that bold statement, even if he’s very unimpressed and nonplussed by the flour-covered frying pan on the floor.  
  
  
“What makes you say that, Papyrus?” Although his tone is dry, the Jedi Master’s sarcasm means he’s amused, even if faintly, “Were you afraid they would be bored without another kitchen to clean?”  
  
  
“Master Kit Fisto says that chores build character and teamwork, which is exactly what Bantha Clan is learning to do right now. So, yes, actually, this is a good way to practice that,” Rus knows he’s skirting dangerous territory, getting cheeky with a Jedi Master, but he  _ hates  _ it when he’s written off as just a troublemaker. He works just as hard as all the other younglings and padawans in the temple, and it’s not  _ his  _ fault the rest of them don’t know how to relax and have fun, too!  
  
  
“But actually, we were just getting a head start on making the pie filling for them! It was going to get all smushed anyway, right?” Rus asks boldly, ignoring the sudden tug at his hood. He can feel Edge’s fingers digging into the back of his neck, uncomfortably, but he speaks undeterred, “So, if you look at it that way, we were actually  _ helping  _ them! So, we’re accomplishing our task and even going beyond it!”  
  
  
The kitchen is deathly silent as Mace stares at him, an unreadable expression on his face. That’s a bad sign. Rus opens his mouth again to argue his point further, but that’s all Edge is able to endure. He pushes Rus behind him roughly, keeping a firm hand on his wrist as though afraid he’ll run away. It feels nice, in a weird kind of way.  
  
  
“We’re going to clean it up, Master Windu,” Edge says quickly but earnestly, obviously mortified by this whole ordeal, “The whole entire kitchen. And the storeroom.”  
  
  
He takes the soggy bag, holding it between two fingers and making his way towards the trash can, pulling Rus behind him, “We’ll leave it  _ better  _ than how we found it-“  
  
  
“That’s a good start,” Mace’s gaze is pitiless as he moves his hand over the trash can’s lid, shutting it with the force before Edge can throw the ruined sack away. He steps out of the doorway, arms crossed over his chest sternly, “But first, you both need to finish your original task. Go give Master Toriel what she asked for,” He turns to give Rus a flat look, “And explain to her and the rest of Bantha Clan how you were delayed because you were ‘helping’ them make their pie filling.”  
  
  
“Yes, Master Windu,” Edge answers quietly, ducking his head guiltily as he makes his way past the Jedi Master and into the hallway. His sharp cheekbones are flushed in mortification, and for some strange reason, Rus thinks it’s kind of pretty.   
  
  
“Yes, Master Windu,” Rus repeats obediently, trying to sound properly chastened and remorseful, but it’s not true. He doesn’t feel bad about teasing all of those fun reactions and expressions out of Edge, and he certainly doesn’t feel bad about sticking up for them. Mace doesn’t look like he buys his apology, but doesn’t comment on it as Rus follows his friend into the hallway.  
  
  
Just as he starts to think that maybe they got out of this without a guided meditation session or extra chores, Edge stops abruptly. He looks at Mace for a long moment, obviously trying to gauge his mood, before asking, “...Can we change our robes first?”  
  
  
Oh, Edge. Rus can’t hold in that sigh, giving his friend a disappointed look he’s sure to angle away from their Master. Didn’t he know? The less questions you asked, the more loopholes you could exploit later.  
  
  
“And keep them waiting longer?” Mace asks, raising that dreaded eyebrow that has Edge cringing guiltily.  
  
  
“Of _ course not, _ Master Windu,” Rus tells him quickly before Edge can do anymore damage, grabbing his friend’s hand and dragging him away, “We’ll go right away-“  
  
  
“Come right back here when you’re done,” Mace calls after them when they’re just a few steps away from the bend in the corner, just about to escape his line of sight. Edge turns to look at the Jedi Master obediently, but Rus settles for sulkily looking over his shoulder, “After you’re done cleaning the kitchen, I think you’ll both benefit from some guided meditation with Master Yoda. And then me. And I’m sure Master Fisto will be delighted to explain and show you his cleaning philosophy in greater detail.”  
  
  
Great. It’s not phrased as a request, but it’s clear they won’t have much of a choice. Rus lets Edge answer for them, letting his friend haul him around the corner and out of sight. They walk in silence together, Rus very aware Edge hasn’t let his hand go yet, but he waits until they’re far out of hearing range to ask about it.  
  
  
“You can let go now, you know,” He tries to act casual, gently shaking his hand as though he doesn’t like the contact. Physical contact isn’t forbidden by the code, but handholding is frowned upon as a potential conduit to attachments. They’re still young enough it’s not  _ that  _ big a deal yet, but Edge is usually such a stickler for this sort of stuff...  
  
  
“No!” Edge tightens his grip as if he’s worried Rus is going to make a break for it, narrowing his sockets suspiciously, “If I let go, you’re going to do something  _ terrible  _ and get us in even  _ more  _ trouble!”  
  
  
Ah, he’s still mad, then. Rus gives Edge’s hand a squeeze, deciding he’s going to enjoy this for as long as possible. Who knows when it’s going to happen again?  
  
  
“When we get there,  _ I  _ am going to explain and  _ you  _ are going to apologize,” Edge continues to scold him, uncaring or unaware that Stretch isn’t listening to the content of his words, just the tone and cadence, “ _ Just _ apologize! Don’t try to argue or make up a story or distract them! Just a  _ simple  _ apology!”  
  
  
Rus swings their joined hands as he lets his friend lead them towards where Toriel and the rest of Bantha clan are waiting for them.   
  
  
It’s not how he envisioned this day to go, but Rus isn’t exactly  _ disappointed.  _ The nice thing about getting trouble together is that they get punished together, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for letting me play in your sandbox, Keely! <3 
> 
> I hope the Mace Windu was acceptable... I'm sorry Mr. Mace Windu, sir, I love you very much but you are hard to write. :'D 
> 
> Lots of gratuitous name dropping of some of my favorite Jedi Masters: Master Plo Koon, Master Yoda, and Master Kit Fisto! And references to other Star Wars creatures (Bantha on Tatooine Sand People's pack animals, Kowakian monkey lizard is Jabba the Hutt's obnoxious pet, and jogan fruit is, uh, something in SW.) I'm a very casual fan who loves the movies, so I've taken a lot of liberties with the padawan training and Jedi Temple, although there isn't very much information to begin with. :C
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!!


End file.
